


Twenty

by etherimaginary



Category: GOT7
Genre: Anal Fingering, I hate myself for this, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 22:11:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8419192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherimaginary/pseuds/etherimaginary
Summary: Youngjae asks Jackson to help him work out. Jackson knows how to keep him motivated.





	

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Ok so this was originally an idea that I thought up, but you can honestly thank nyahaha for its existence because she convinced me to actually write it. She promised to buy me bubble tea if I posted it, so you guys are all witness to that. She better come through.  
> 2\. IF YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, I DON'T REALLY WRITE SMUT AT ALL. SO I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I SUFFERED FOR THIS FIC. HOPEFULLY IT PAYED OFF.  
> 3\. I literally wrote this in one sitting its now 2am and Im dying  
> 4\. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“ _Hyung_.” Youngjae whined, teeth pressed together hard enough that he wondered how they hadn’t broken yet. His hands fisted at his sides, shaking and sweaty. Jackson hummed from where he sat at Youngjae’s feet, fingers ghosting along Youngjae’s calves and tapping on his toes.

“Again,” was the order, Jackson jerking his head upward. “Come on, just five more.”

If there was a thing such as hell on earth, Youngjae was sure it was this. It had all started when Youngjae had tentatively asked Jackson to help him work out. He wanted to get a good body for their next comeback, and he knew Jackson wouldn’t be opposed to helping him out, considering he preached health and fitness like it was the air he breathed.

Squats had come first, or as Youngjae liked to call them, Satan’s teabag. Jackson had helped him keep form by always having one hand on his ass, squeezing whenever Youngjae leaned too far forward or didn’t go all the way down. Next had come push ups, in which Jackson made sure Youngjae kept his body straight my having one hand under his hips, dangerously low, Youngjae might add, and one wrapped around the top of his thigh, dangerously high.

The grand finale was leg lifts. Youngjae had assumed that they would be the easiest; after all, all you really had to do was lay on your back and raise your legs into the air, put them down, repeat. Youngjae was great at laying down, so he had assumed the rest would come easily as well. And it had, for perhaps the first seven reps, but then his legs started to shake, abdominal muscles burning as they struggled to lift his legs from the floor.

“The reason you’re having a hard time is because your shorts are interfering with your motion.” Jackson tugged on the hem of one to prove a point. “If you take them off, you’ll have a much easier time and be able to work longer.”

“Really?” Youngjae didn’t know whether or not to believe Jackson’s words, but he figured he would come off as condescending if he commented on the matter, since Jackson worked out far more often than he did and thus was more knowledgeable. Youngjae pulled himself to his feet, thighs shaking at the effort with the ghost exhaustion that the squats had caused, and tugged off his shorts. They had been living together far too long to be uncomfortable in underwear around each other, so he had no problem in returning to his position on his back, taking a breath before trying to lift his legs again. His body screamed at the effort, small whimpers escaping his lips. “It’s not working.”

A hand crept up Youngjae’s thigh, stopping at the base of his underwear. It tickled, and Youngjae couldn’t help but squirm. Jackson tsked, tugging on his underwear with enough force that it slipped a few centimeters down Youngjae’s hips, causing him to yelp and tug it back up. “These are even worse than the shorts. You obviously can’t do them properly with these on.”

“Are you fucking with me right now?” Youngjae frowned, looking down past his underwear to stare incredulously at Jackson, who showed no signs of jest. 

“Of course not. I do all my working out naked. That is the natural way.” Jackson narrowed his eyes, meeting Youngjae’s stare with ferocity. “Unless you are suggesting you know more about it than I do?”

“No!” Youngjae sat up quickly, willing the flush that had spread across his cheeks so subside. Jackson really was doing him a favour; the last thing he wanted to do was say something stupid and make Jackson not want to help him anymore. He really did need help. He tugged off his shirt to prove his sincerity, offering a timid smile and reminding himself that Jackson had seen him shirtless countless times before. It felt different now though, Jackson’s hand still on his thigh and Youngjae flushed and sweaty. He took a deep breath, looking away from Jackson’s gaze before slipping off his underwear and tossing it to the side. Jackson flashed him a smile, nodding approvingly before tapping the ground, signaling for Youngjae to lie back down.

“Good. This will make it a lot easier. Just ten more, then we can move on.” Youngjae tried to ignore the way Jackson was looking at him; it reminded him of the way he looked at a hamburger after they had spent all day practicing. 

“Ten?” Youngjae near squawked, pushing himself up into sitting position, “You said five before!”

The comment was rewarded with a hand on his chest, pushing him back onto the ground. “Make it twenty.” Jackson’s voice was low, hungry, sending blood rushing right to Youngjae’s groin. He decided just to obey, before Jackson spoke any more and caused him to become hard. That would be difficult to hide, much less explain. “Count for me, will you?”

Youngjae closed his eyes, albeit begrudgingly, hands out by his side as he lifted his legs from the floor and up above him. “One.” He could hear Jackson praise him, his hands gripping Youngjae’s ankles lightly to help him all the way to the floor before pulling them up again. “Two.”

There was rustling as Jackson got up and walk across the room but Youngjae didn’t dare open his eyes. He couldn’t focus on anything except the burning in his abs and the way his legs were shaking, each movement more difficult than the last. “Three.” He could hear Jackson slide open a drawer, rustle around in said drawer for a moment, then push it back closed. “Four.” The word was moaned rather than spoken, his voice straining as he lowered his legs back to the ground. Jackson’s padded back over to him, settled himself back at Youngjae’s feet. “Five.” 

Hands gripped Youngjae’s thighs, causing him to jump. “Keep going,” Jackson urged, squeezing up and down Youngjae’s thighs as a crude sort of massage. The hands removed themselves when Youngjae lowered his legs, returning when he lifted them again. “Six.” The pressure on his thighs lowered, pinching and rubbing along Youngjae’s sensitive skin. It crept further to the center, one hand running up and down his legs and the other squeezing his ass. “Six.”

Jackson paused, hands squeezing tightly for a moment before retracting. Youngjae nearly whimpered at the loss of contact. “What was that?” The question was a growl, a whisper, everything that Youngjae feared and everything he wanted at the same time.

“Seven! I said seven, oh please…” Youngjae’s voice cracked as he cried out, knuckles white against his stomach. “Seven, seven, please, _please_.”

“Please what, baby boy?” Jackson tapped his leg lightly. “Use your words.”

“Please touch me.” Youngjae’s words were shaky, fingers digging into the skin of his palm out of embarrassment. Jackson hummed in reply, so Youngjae lifted his legs again, trying to ignore the burn in his stomach, trying to be good, good for Jackson. “Eight.” He gasped at the feeling of hands on his ass, pulling slightly so he was exposed to the open air. Deep down he knew he should be embarrassed, but between his growing hardness and the pain in his muscles he couldn’t bring himself to care. He just wanted Jackson’s hands on him, massaging him, marking him. “Nine, oh god, please.” He heard a pop as something was uncapped, and a minute later a cold and slippery finger dragged across his ass, swirling around his entrance but disappearing as he lowered his legs back onto the floor.

Youngjae shook, tears welling in his eyes. His legs trembled, muscles aching. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and not move for a week, but Jackson didn’t touch him when his legs were down, so he knew he had to continue. “T-ten.” The finger returned with purpose, pushing past the ring of muscles and twisting inside of Youngjae. His legs remained in the air, shaking, until a gentle hand grasped his ankle and tugged him down. The finger stayed in Youngjae’s ass, curling, twisting him into madness. 

“You can take a break, if you want,” Jackson hummed, his hand moving from Youngjae’s ankle up his shin to push his knees apart. Youngjae whimpered, eyelashes wet as he nodded. Jackson’s free hand traveled up and down his leg, squeezing gently as he added another finger, pumping them in and out torturously slowly. Youngjae’s mouth dropped open in a silent gasp, hands wandering around the floor in search of anything to grab onto. He was fully hard by now, cock standing up in the air proudly. Jackson waited until Youngjae stopped twitching at the movement of his fingers before adding a third, pushing them deep into his body. Youngjae’s eyes fluttered, small sounds drifting from his lips as he relaxed into the feeling until Jackson’s voice pulled him from his trance. “Don’t get comfortable yet, kitten. You still have ten more.”

Youngjae’s hands fisted in his own hair, teeth gritted with frustration. The fingers inside him stopped moving in response, and he let out a sob, tensing his muscles. “Eleven.” His chest shook with silent sobs, but the fingers returning to their delicious motion inside him once again at his obedience. “Twelve” He groaned, eyebrows furrowing at the combined agony that his legs, abs, and Jackson’s fingers were giving him. His cock ached, denied of any touch, and though there was nothing Youngjae wanted to do more than grasp it with his own hands, he had a sneaking suspicion that the action would cause more harm than good, considering the way Jackson had acted thus far. “Thir-please, please-teen.” The pressure on Youngjae’s thigh disappeared, the sound of rustling coming from by his feet. “Fourteen.” Jackson pulled out all of his fingers, leaving Youngjae clenching around the air.

“Hyung, what-” Youngjae’s sentence was interrupted by a buzzing and a hand on his inner thigh, urging his legs apart. “Jackson, what are you- ah!” His back arched off the floor as a vibrator pressed against his hole, fingers scrambling along the floor. A firm hand on his hip kept him in place, but he still squirmed as Jackson pressed the vibrator into him, the toy rubbing against his prostate. Each buzz send twitches through Youngjae’s body, his previous fatigue forgotten as he writhed on the floor. He felt a hand card through his hair, and realize Jackson had abandoned his post at his feet to kneel beside his chest, his other hand circling one of Youngjae’s nipples. “No, no, I can’t. I really can’t.”

“You can. You _will_.” Jackson tugged on the nipple, rolling it between his fingertips and savouring the cries and whimpers the action earned him. “Almost done, baby. You can do it.”

Youngjae wanted to scream, to grab Jackson and shake him because he couldn’t do it, really couldn’t. Sobs caught in his throat, one hand fisting in the material of Jackson’s shirt. “Fifteen.” At this point, Youngjae let his legs fall to the floor rather than lowering them slowly, and the action jolted the vibrator deeper inside of him, tearing a cry from his throat. “Jackson, I’m gonna, I- _ah_.” His body tensed, ready for his orgasm to wash over him, but something tight wrapped itself around the base of his cock, and he opened his eyes to see that it was Jackson’s hand, twisting slowly but not loosening its grip. “No! Oh, god please, ah _Jackson_.” His body spasmed as the orgasm rippled through him dry, hips stuttering.

“You don’t get to come until your finished.” Jackson’s words were spoken through clenched teeth, his fingers tightening into a fist in Youngjae’s hair. 

Every muscle in Youngjae’s body ached, shaking with every movement he made. But he knew Jackson wouldn’t give in, and the vibrator sure as hell wasn’t going to either. “Sixteen.” Jackson smiled down at him, his hand, still tight, moving up and down Youngjae’s cock. Youngjae crumbled under the sensation, each twitch exhausting. “Seventeen.”

“You’re doing so well, kitten,” Jackson cooed, brushing away the hair that stuck to Youngjae’s face. He groaned in response, the sound a combination of the vibrator pressed up against his prostate and the effort of having to list his legs into the air again. “Eighteen.”

He was going to die. He was sure of it. Heat pooled in his stomach, threatening him to swallow him up. He was close, so close, but Jackson’s hand, or more specifically, its tight hold, held him just back from the peak he ached to reach. “Nineteen.”

Jackson stroked Youngjae more feverishly now, sharp tugs that Youngjae desperately thrust upwards into. His body was truly shaking now, heat pouring out of his skin. He couldn’t, he really couldn’t. It was impossible. Jackson twisted his hand around Youngjae’s cock, the other one going to tease his nipples, and Youngjae cried out loudly, arching up into the touch. 

“Twenty!” He screamed the word, letting his legs fall back onto the floor where they twitched uselessly. He couldn’t feel them anymore. Jackson loosened his hold but kept pumping, the pressure in Youngjae’s stomach building and building until, with a cry of Jackson’s name, he came, spilling white over Jackson’s hand and onto his stomach, Jackson stroked his hair as aftershocks wracked Youngjae’s body, waiting until he was twitching with overstimulation to remove his hand and click off the vibrator. He pulled it out slowly, Youngjae shivering at the empty feeling that remained.

Jackson rose, leaving Youngjae on the floor and returning a minute later with a cloth. He began wiping up the mess Youngjae had made; it was clear that the boy currently didn’t have the capability to do it for himself. “That was good! Though, the key to every workout is consistency. We should do this often if you want to see results.”

“Yeah,” Youngjae mumbled, trying not to squirm as Jackson cleaned him up. “Often.”

God, he was going to be sore tomorrow.


End file.
